


Ritual.

by hoopshoney



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoopshoney/pseuds/hoopshoney
Summary: Thoughts on how Erik got his scars and the girl that did them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written in a while but I had this in my head. Its barely a complete thought and i got tired or writing right at the end which is why it ends the way it does. Let me know what you think, I’m down for the discourse in my inbox.

The first time she met him he walked through the door of her shop like she wasn’t 5 minutes from closing. Kara didn’t bother looking up, knowing Taylor,the teenager she hired to man the front desk, would turn him away or get him to set an appointment. Wiping down her station with generic disinfectant, she was surprised to hear the low hum of conversation pass her ears. The giggling from her employee letting her know their conversation was past social niceties. Straightening up from where she was bent over, Kara cracks her back before discarding the gloves she was wearing. It had been a long day, she was damn sure ready to go home, and she wasn’t gonna let her flirty receptionist keep her here a second longer. Making her way to the front, she lets her hair down from the falling bun she usually wears, her loose hair partially obscuring the sight in front of her.

The man leaning across the desk in front of Taylor was tall.

That was the first thing she noticed. He was practically stooping in order to lean onto his elbows and speak to the giggling teen. The second thing she noticed was the golds in his mouth capped perfectly around his canines as he smiled at his receptionist. He was cute. But cute wasn’t gonna keep her from this hot bath she needed.

Voice low she interrupts their flirting, “Can I help you?”

They both turn to look at her. Taylor’s face guilty and the customer’s face curious.

“Oh, um-he wanted to see if maybe you could squeeze in a session for today,” Taylor’s voice is almost pleading, like she doesn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to him. Taking pity on the young girl, Kara shakes her head, “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed,” walking over to the desk she looks at the empty appointment spaces on the computer in front of Taylor, “I could probably fit you in tomorrow uhhh–”

“–Erik” his voice is deep and captivating when he speaks.

Shit, no wonder Taylor was flirting.

“Erik. I’m Kara. ,” she fills in, “Would that work for you?”

Erik shakes his head slowly, hand coming up to rub the scruff at his chin as he looks at her, “Nah, see that’s what I was tryna tell her–I ship out tomorrow so I’m just tryna get this done real quick. And shit ma, took me a bit to even find ya shop.”

It wasn’t the first time she had heard that. She had a loyal clientele and rarely found the need to do much advertising online other that her instagram. Looking him up and down she notes the dreads on his head, skeptical. “Ship out?”

“Navy.” He states his mouth tilting up in a smirk as if noting her skepticism.

“Seal?” she asks with a tilt of her head, her curiosity peaking through.

Hands sliding in his pockets, he leans back almost impressed at her guess, “What gave it away?”

Laughing, she looks away, helping Taylor stack the receipts from the day, “Not many military guys with dreads. Gotta be doing something special for them to let you do that.”

Raising one eyebrow, his response is short, “Somethin’ like that.”

Sighing, Kara can see her hot bath slipping away from her.

“You’re lucky I’m a sucker for a service member” seeing him relax at her answer she takes on a qualifying statement, “BUT you gotta wait till I shut down my store and I’m probably gonna charge you double.”

Walking over to the leather couches seated along the wall, he takes a seat, slouching like he has all the time in the world as he takes out his phone, “Take your time,ma.”

It took her about 30 more minutes to finish closing things up. Her and Taylor cashed out the register, cleaned the shop, and turned on the security cameras. Sending Taylor home with her ride she closes and locks the door behind her before finally turning to the man still waiting on the couch.

Placing her hand on her hips, she turns to look at the man sitting on her couch, “Alright so what do you need done?”

Standing quickly enough to make her take a step back he reaches for the edge of his shirt, “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Lifting her hand to cover her eyes, she tries to get the heat in her cheeks to go down, “woah woah woah, your cute and all but–” His laugh rings out through the shop making her drop her hand and look at him. Shirtless now, she can see what he was trying to show her.

Her voice, when she finds it, is the softest whisper, “Jesus.”

His chest is covered in rows and rows of scars. Perfectly carved and nearly all identical they cover his stomach and upper chest in neat lines. Unable to resist she walks closer, in awe at the level of artmanship. The crocodile scars were well done, a testimony to the effort someone had put into them. “Who did these?” her voice was excited with the idea of meeting someone who had perfected the same craft she had worked so hard at, “Was it Jonah? In DC? He’s the only person I’ve met who can do this with this sort of discipline.”

She had moved closer as she talked. Her hands moved across his torso as she took in the diameter of each circle.

When he spoke she heard the words rumbling through her hand. “I did it.”

She couldn’t help the snort that escaped her throat. Though the silence that followed told her it wasn’t a joke.

“Are you serious? Jesus Christ!” She couldn’t imagine inflicting this type of scarring. The thought that he must either be a masochist or have some serious fucking self harm issues crossed her mind, though she managed to keep it inside.

Looking up at him, their eyes connected making her realized how close she had gotten to him. Thanking god that her skin was too dark for a blush, she flashed a chagrined smile before taking a step back.

“So if you did these yourself what do you need me for?” Crossing her arms across her chest she studies him closely.

“I can’t reach my back,” he turns and grabs his shirt, tucking it in his back pocket, “So we doin this or what, ma?"

* * *

 

They were set up in the room she used for clients that wanted more privacy, though she made sure to keep the door open, strange man and all that.

She was trying to keep her hands from shaking. More out of excitement than nervousness. She had started off as an apprentice tattooer before learning about ritualistic scarring.

She had gotten so interested that she had saved up for years in order to fly to Africa and learn among the different groups their. The people who did the work there were true artists. Whether they had new tools or ancient methods everything they did had a purpose. She had learned among them the best she could, coming out with a new skill that she loved but could barely use.

There weren’t many people who were looking for the type of ritualistic scarring that she did, though she did get a few people a year. Those times were special to her. She loved tattooing but there was something about the ritual that drew her in every time.

He sat on the table shirtless as she gathered all the things she needed. His face was set and emotionless as if he was mentally preparing for this.

“You being stoic does nothing for me. You know that, right?” her voice was matter of fact.

His face didn’t change as he prepared himself for what was to come. She tells herself that he must be aware of the pain this is gonna cause if she goes by the marks on his chest.

Pausing from wiping his skin, she pulls off her gloves, telling him to hold on for a second before walking back to her office. When she returns its with a bottle of whiskey and two plastic cups she found in the staff kitchen. Pouring a small measure in each cup, she hands one out to him, shoving it in his hand when it seems like he’ll resist. Laughing a little Kara quickly downs her shot, “Do it for me. It’ll probably help calm my nerves.”

Taking the cup from her hand he downs his shot in one swallow before handing her back the cup. “You betta not be a lightweight. I ain’t trying to have no crooked scars,” his voice is low but there’s a teasing undertone to it, almost as if he’s trying to put her at ease.

Snapping her gloves back on, she pushes him onto his stomach, admiring the muscles on his back before clapping her hands together. “Alright. Let’s do this shit!”

* * *

 

The first time took the longest. Kara was determined to get this right while also inflicting minimal pain. Which meant alot of measuring,prepping and attempts to get him to relax his back muscles.

Erik had been back multiple times since then. A quarter of his back taken up by the perfectly symmetrical crocodile scars she had done. He mainly showed up when she was close to closing never failing to piss her off for derailing whatever plans she had.

But she put up with it.

She knew that anyone who ritually put himself through this type of suffering needed this outlet. Sometimes she felt conflicted. It was hard as a tattoo artist and a body modifier to separate these feelings even in her normal clients. Some people got tattoos for the look, for the meaning, and more.

But there were other people and those people did it as a type of penance. Every prick, every poke that she made a way to remember their sins. A way to beg for forgiveness, while also trying to forget. It was those people that would worry her.

Was she playing into their need for punishment. In this way they were their own judge and jury and she would be their executioner; forced to mark them with their sins for all to see.

For him to see.

But she continued, enjoying the opportunity to hone her craft. Not to mention enjoy his company. They always started off a session with a shot, an almost ritual of sorts since that first time. There were times they would talk. Joke and flirt, his canines glinting as his head turned towards her. She enjoyed those times, liked seeing him lightened. His shoulders un-tensing as she joked around before piercing his skin.

Sometimes he would come in not so much tired, but weary. As if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Those were the times where she would give him 5,10,15 scars at a time.

“Does it ever get easier?” she would ask, voice low as she wiped up the blood sliding slowly from the cut she had made.

He barely winced as she used a syringe to insert the clay and tea tree oil into his skin, “Nah. Just doesn’t get harder. There’s always a low hum of pain running through your body–you just train yourself to get used to it.”

One time he showed up early, walking back into “his” room in the shop without even bothering to stop at the reception desk. Walking in Erik saw her bent over a table filling in an unidentified shape on a girls hipbone. Kara looks up at the intrusion, groaning when she spots his dreads in the doorway.

“You got time today,” his question in barely a question as he just assumes she’ll say yes.

Which she does.

She doesn’t look up from the spot she’s shading in. “Yeah, I’m just finishing up. You can wait in the office if you want.”

By the time she’s finishing she notices her client Brandy damn near breaking her neck to get a look at him leaving.

“He’s cute,huh?” Kara says, wiping down the finished tattoo before snapping off her gloves.

“Huh?” she’s damn near speechless staring at the door he walked through.

Laughing, Kara starts to wipe down her station, “Erik. He’s cute, huh?”

“Cute?! Girl he is FINE!” Brandy stands looking at her hip tattoo in the floor length mirror before heading to the front to cash out.

Later as he gingerly puts his shirt on over his fresh scars, she digs the sticky note she saved out of her back pocket before handing it to him.

“What’s this?” grabbing the paper with a suspicious look in his eyes he notes the digits written on it.

Hopping up on the counter behind her, Kara looks at him earnestly, “Girl i was tattooing earlier’s number. Get laid, Erik. Maybe you’ll lose some of the tension in your shoulders. Maybe you’ll forget the pain running through you.”

He steps closer to her tossing the sticky note over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Don’t litter,” she says in a mumble, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes. Ignoring her, he cages her body against the counter pressing his body between her legs, arms landing on her thighs.

His voice is rough when he speaks, the sound of it rolling through her from where they’re pressed together. “What if I don’t want _her_ to numb me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Ritual: 
> 
> He steps closer to her tossing the sticky note over his shoulder with a smirk.
> 
> “Don’t litter,” she says in a mumble, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes. Ignoring her, he cages her body against the counter pressing his body between her legs, arms landing on her thighs.
> 
> His voice is rough when he speaks, the sound of it rolling through her from where they’re pressed together. “What if I don’t want her to numb me?”

 

* * *

His forehead pressed against hers and she allowed herself to settle into that feeling, his breath feathered gently across her face.

Kara took his face between her hands, squeezing so his lips were pursed together comically.

“Mmmhm tempting,” she ignored the raspiness from lust in her voice, “ but I can literally smell the repressed anger coming from you. Not really my style, ya know?”

Erik shook his head and smirked before pushing himself off from the counter allowing her to jump down.

Bending over he picked up the discarded sticky note, shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans before he pulled out his wallet.

“Only girl I know tryna’ pass me off on someone else.”

“Aww Erik, don’t take this the wrong way but I’m pretty sure your dick ruins lives and I just don’t have the time.”

He tossed more money that was necessary on the counter behind her.  A shake of his his head the only sign he had heard her statement he made his way to the front, “I’m done with you… and lock the door behind me!”

* * *

Kara hovered slightly over Taylor’s shoulder, watching her shade on one of Kara’s volunteer clients, when the bell let her know someone had walked in.

She looked over her shoulder, clocking Erik standing in the lobby. She gave Taylor a reassuring pat, before walking over to him.

Her boots clicked on the floor as she fixed him with a firm stare, “ I’m gonna stop giving you girl’s numbers if you keep having these girls dickmatized.”

Fully leaned back in on the couch he was sitting on, Erik lifted an eyebrow at her seriousness.

“Oh so somethin’s my fault?”

Dropping down on the seat beside him she leaned into it, her legs slanted on top of his, glad to be off her feet.

“When they start showing up here looking for you–hell yeah it’s your fault.”

“Damn, Kara, this talent it a gift and a curse, but somebody’s gotta live with it,” Erik grabbed her ankle and shook it teasingly.

“Well your gift is gonna get you cursed, nigga,” Erik looked at her skeptically, laughter in his eyes at her statement, “ I’m serious. I’m sure one of these girls got a voodoo doll of you somewhere. Been feeling any random pains lately?” She poked him in the chest, before pasting a look of faux concern on her face.

Bringing his hand up to cover his chest, Erik looked at her seriously, “Only in my dick when I think about the fact that you won’t let me hit.”

Kara pouted before covering his hand with hers, “Aww baby, why didn’t you say something earlier?”

They looked at each other seriously for a moment, before bursting out in mutual laughter.

Looking at the watch on his wrist, he changed the subject, “Aye, you ate yet? Thinkin’ of heading down to Big Tony’s.”

“You sure you don’t want to just dive right in. I don’t have any clients right now.”

Tossing her legs off of his, Erik stood up, “Nah, don’t need anything done today, just swinging by.”

Kara smiled up at him, trying to ignore the clenching in her heart at the fact that he just wanted to get lunch with her. However, she couldn’t resist teasing him, “Careful E, you might end up hanging out with a girl who’s never seen your dick.”

He tugged at the crotch of his pant, smirking at her with his golds glinting slightly, “I mean we can remedy that right now.”

Kara jumped up from her seat, groaning at the protests her feet make, “Keep your pants on, Don Juan. Let me just tell Taylor to watch the front and we can head out.”

* * *

“No! No! No! No!,” Kara’s voice is damn near a shriek as she waved her hand at the scene in front of her, “I know damn well you didn’t bring a dog in here.”

Looking down at the panting animal connected to him by leash, Erik shrugged nonchalantly, “X isn’t a dog. He’s family.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples to alleviate the inevitable headache that’s to come, Kara speaks slowly, “…A family DOG. He IS still an animal, right?”

Erik ignores her clear protests, letting X off leash. The dog walked around a little before settling sweetly at her feet.

“Kara, you close in like 20 minutes, stop playing man.”

Bending down to pet the animal at her feet, she looked up at him, “If I get shut down by the health department you are definitely going down there and bribing someone.” She looked past him, seeing his very male, very expensive car parked by the curb, “—I know you can afford it.”

“Shit, you get shut down and I’ll hire you to be my personal artist.”

“Oh you would love that, huh?”

“Hell yeah, girl. Get you under contract. Maybe get you a little outfit–” his voice had a contemplating tone.

Kara held her hand up, quickly cutting him off, “Alright, you done lost yo mind now.”

He laughed at her protest, crossing his arms across his chest, “Come on, baby girl. You can’t tell me the idea of you at my beck and call doesn’t do something to you.”

Kara stood from her squatting position, stepping over the dog relaxing at her feet, she got her body as close to Erik’s as possible. She reached her hands up to wind around his neck, putting her lips close to his ear,  her breath fluttered gently as she whispered.

“Oh it does something to me all right,” she sighed softly in his ear she continues, “It’s called nausea.”

Kara stepped back quickly, laughing at the expression on his face before she turned to the dog, “C’mon little baby, let’s go get you some water. I’ll be at your beck and call.”

His voice followed her as she made her way to the back room, “So the dog gets more love than me?!”

* * *

Erik once again made his appearance at Kara’s shop close to its closing time. Looking up from the books she’s balancing, Kara glanced up at him with a quick smile, before she finished the column she’s on.

“Dude, didn’t we discuss this last time–there’s no more space left on your body,” taking her glasses off  she raises one eyebrow as she looks at him teasingly, “unless–”

Erik shook his head at her, rubbing his hand across his dread covered hair.

“I’m just saying, E, the ladies might enjoy some texture down–” her words are cut off by a shriek as he lunged towards her making his way around the counter. Jumping up from her chair she ran to the other side of the reception desk.

“Okay, okay, okay! So what’s up?”

Behind the reception desk, Erik took a seat in the chair she was previously occupying, his feet propped up on the counter, “Imma be gone for a bit…wanted to come see you before I left.”

Looking at him quizzically, Kara paused for a second. Erik had never really volunteered information about when he was coming or going and she had never really asked. They were friends but to a certain extent. Though they talked about their life outside of her shop they never invited each other into it or volunteered information about it. She wasn’t sure what had made him start now

“Uhhhh Erik, is everything okay?” her question was genuine and softly spoken.

Much like every other conversation, his response was nonchalant as he played with the paperweight he had taken of the desk, “Yeah, it’s cool. Just not sure when I’m coming back.”

Kara snatched the paper weight out of his hand, setting it behind her hoping it will get his attention focused back on her, “ You’re never sure when your coming back…or at least you never tell me?”

He stared up at her, eyes glinting with something unexplainable behind them as he shrugged, “Not sure if I am coming back this time, baby girl. Just wanted to kick it witchu before I left.”

She decided to treat this like any other night despite the turmoil behind his eyes, she pushed his feet off her desk.

“Well, you are in luck. There was something I wanted to ask you,” her voice shook a little, more out of excitement out of nervousness. Kara grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the chair and back to the room she usually did his scars in.

“Word. What is it?” his voice is curious, though there is a note of caution present in it.

She poured out their ritual shots, waiting till he drinks his before speaking again.

“I want a crocodile scar–”

He raised his eyebrows and  poured another shot, but she spoke again before he can take it.

“–and I want you to do it.”

He rolled his shot glass in his hand, giving a quick nod of  his head before speaking, “Got alotta faith in my, huh, baby girl.” His question is posed as a statement, as if he already knows her response.

Kara placed her fingers on his chest, playing connect the dots with the scars she can feel through his shirt.

“Don’t forget I’ve seen your work. You’re good,” Kara shrugged, laughter followed it, “not a good as me, but good.”

He grabbed the tip of her fingers in one hand, turning her towards the table. Letting her go to set the shot glass on the counter in the room, he poured another shot. , “Probably shouldn’t tease the person who’s gonna cut into your skin.”

She hopped up on the table pulling her hair up in a high bun, she allowed herself to get serious for a second, “I trust you, E.”

He handed her the shot he pours, prepping the area around him as he sits in the artist stool, “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” Kara pointed behind her ear so he can see the spot she’s shaved clean.

He tugs gloves on his hand, before motioning her to turn on her side.

“Good spot, probably gonna hurt like hell though, baby girl. Skin’s a little thin.”

Erik looked down at her face before making his incision, catching her biting her lip, “Don’t look so nervous, girl, damn. You gonna make me nervous.”

His teasing is clearly just a tactic to distract her from the pain but she allowed it, “Like you’ve ever been nervous in your life.”

She felt more than heard his small chuckle, the breath feathering across the side of her face as he poked her with the syringe.

His voice came out low and steady when he spoke, the sound of it echoing through her, “Your doing good, baby girl. Takin’ this pain so well.”

Kara tried not to squirm from his voice, the pain only in the back of her mind as his words invoked different situations in her mind. She lets her mind wander as he manipulates the mixture under her skin. He wiped it gently with a wet wipe and applied ointment to it, before pulling her up from her prone position and allowing her to look at the perfect circle in the handheld mirror.

Looking up from herself in the mirror, she noticed how close he is to her, the stool he’s sitting on positioned in between her legs. Looking him in the eyes, her voice was soft when she spoke, “Thank you. I love it.”

The tension is the room rose, making him unable to to resist pulling her closer. His hand cupped  her cheek, lifting her mouth up to his and connecting their lips in a real kiss.As the kiss gets deeper, she wrapped her hands around his neck. Erik pulled her even closer, letting his fingers slip under her shirt to connect to the skin on her lower back making her shiver. Their lips parted momentarily, each needed to catch their breath, but he craved more.

His lips found her chin and kissed a trail down her neck. Her pulse quickened as she slid her hands down his arms, feeling the raised circles she had placed on his body.  One of his hands goes to cup the back of his head, her hiss of pain pulled him back to reality and away from her body.  
Kara exhaled, eyes closed, allowing some of the tension to exit her body as he scoots back in his stool, allowing some space between them.

“Being at my beck and call is sounding better and better,huh?”

She groaned at the smug sound of his voice. Kara opened her eyes, thumping him on the chest, she ignored the fact that her smile matched his, “You enjoy being an asshole, huh?”

He shrugged, standing up from his seat, “It’s pretty damn entertaining to me.”

Kara threw up her hands in exasperation, “Yeah. To you and only you!”

Erik smirked at her quickly, leaning against the doorframe he crossed his arms staring down at where she’s sitting. Kara looked up at him, her gaze softened.

“I know you’ll be gone a while, but you know you're always welcome here,” she hoped he could hear the obvious emotion in her tone, though she knows he’s one to ignore it.

He’s quiet of course, just staring at her as she came to stand in front of him. She continued on despite his lack of response. She placed her hands on her face, staring up into his troubled eyes.

“Besides, you were one of the most beautiful canvases I ever had–,” she placed one last kiss to his cheek before walking around him and out the doorway, “–it would be a shame if I never saw it again.

* * *

_1 year later_

It had been another late night for Kara, as she makes her way up to her apartment. The shop had been getting more business that ever and while she loved the attention and revenue she brought in, she couldn’t handle it all herself. Thinking of the stack of resumes she needed to go through, she almost missed the envelope on her floor as she made her way inside.

She picked up the heavy envelope, noting the intricate design and her name written in calligraphy. She opened it carefully, taking precautions to not tear through the beautiful stationary. Kara pulled out the shimmering piece of paper, the writing on it making her drop the envelope to the floor in shock, before a smile spread across her face. 

_You are invited to rejoice with_

_The Royal Family of Wakanda_

_as they welcome their reunited family_

_N’jadaka Udaku_

The rest of the letter was filled with details on dates and times but it was the handwritten note at the bottom that caught her eye.

_Still down to be my personal artist?- Erik_


End file.
